Legacy
by DavidAlatriste
Summary: Iroh's legacy through the eyes of the one he held closer to him.


I'm the manager for The Ember Island Eel Hounds and this is my submission for Round 7

Manager: Celebrate the end of a long, good life. Prompts: (word) joyous (1 point), (genre) Family (2 points), (restriction) No dialogue (3 points). Round element: Lightning

Word Count: 885

Foreword

All men must die, that is an unavoidable, harsh truth, but Iroh of the Fire Nation, rightful Fire Lord robbed of his thrown, was, to all accounts, a man that I wished could have been exempted from such fate. He had a warm heart and an even warmer smile. He had the wisdom that comes with years. Those he encountered during his many years could tell you that, but when you think about it, he was like that because his own life wasn't always a joyous one.

His rightful place upon the throne was taken from him at a moment where he needed something to hold him together. He had been groomed for it, a right of his noble blood, and the burden of greatness he was meant to carry, stolen by a jealous brother, and cruel fate took another of the already so many things he had loved. First, his wife had passed long before, giving life to his only son. Later, it took that son, the sun in his life, from him as another glorious warrior that had fallen in battle for the sake of the greatness of the Fire Nation. The fallen prince's name would live through history along with his fellow soldiers, but that did not give my uncle comfort.

Iroh was still childless; a man who had buried the two brightest stars in his sky. He would have given anything for them to be by his side, to live with them, in peace, to see his son love and raise his own sons with his own wife by his side. Yet this was the awful truth: Iroh's son and wife could not come back, he had lost everyone he held dear, his throne, his son, his wife, his father, his brother - whose ambition had split them apart - and soon his lovely sister-in-law was gone as well, disappeared to who knew where, leaving to his brother the caring of his children. A task Ozai was never meant to do and my Uncle knew it, but could do nothing as he was battling his own grief. So he watched over the two children from a distance, never believing harm could come to them within the palace walls.

And then Ozai did THAT to his own son, just to make a point. A true father would never do that to his own son, not only scaring him, he destroyed the child entirely, making him into a desperate soul on a fool's errand. So Iroh took it upon himself to stitch this broken human being back together and help him become something better, something that would outlast the damage done to him. He vowed to take this burned bird with a broken wing and raise him up to be a true phoenix with strong wings and a sense of honor that his brother could not understand.

He never expected it to be easy, and yet through the trials of fate, a man, a better man than Iroh could have hoped for, had been made. The road was long and there were many bitter tears shed and cross words spoken, but Iroh never left that bird. He never left me. He never stopped having hope for me and for the world. Even as I tried to learn how to redirect a lightning, and growing desperate to the point of trying (not one of my greatest decisions) to be struck by lightning, Iroh was there for me. When it came down to me and Azula, his kind words and encouraging talks were what passed through my head as I stopped Azula from hurting Katara in the Agni Kai in which I would assume the throne.

That is his legacy, a legacy so many would wish to leave behind: a true family that he himself made out of broken people, not only consisting of his nephew but also his nephew's friends, all lacking something. He could not fill the voids left in their lives but he helped them all back to a path they had strayed from. He taught all of them how to be better and how to use their suffering to improve the world, and with that the world saw the brightest of its moments. He saw the value and beauty in all things: from the smile of a happy child to the amber color of tea. I give him all this praise and yet I know he was not perfect, but those flaws made him my uncle, and to me they made him prefect.

It is with great sorrow his passing has come, but let this be remembered of the ordeal he went through: it was meant to be. All had its purpose. And to those who drown in their problems, remember the advice the most powerful bender received from him. A phrase so powerful that it was the only thing he wished to be carved on his headstone. According to his wishes, these are the words carved on a simple stone on a small grassy hill with a small flower-bearing tree:

_Life is a dark tunnel, we might not be able to see the end of it, but if we keep moving we'll come to a better place._

_~Fire Lord Zuko,_

"_The Dragon of the West: The Real Fire Prince." _


End file.
